You and me and the baby makes THREE!

One of the questions it has in my little baby diary I've been filling out at home is, "When you close your eyes, what do you see about your baby?"  And maybe I've blogged about this before, but it's my blog and I can repeat myself if I want to.

I have this amazing image of Andy and myself and the baby, watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, all bundled up on our sofa.  Explaining to him who everyone is...covering his little baby ears during the teeny-bopper, auto-tuned singers performances...tearing up a little when Santa comes on the screen, because we always do.  And then Thanksgiving lunch (this year at my parents, thankfully, because I LOVE having it at my house, but it might be just too much) and having the baby at the table with us...he'll only be a month or two old, but, it's fine.  And I have this little outfit for him!  Khaki pants and a long sleeved, oxford shirt (yellow and blue!) with a pair of little boat shoes :)  Oh, and a belt.  Thanksgiving is BY FAR my favorite holiday, and just knowing the next one we come to will include our baby boy...it's too much NOT to be excited :)

I've honestly been thinking about Black Friday shopping with him.  I'm not a hardcore, day long shopper.  Maybe enough to see Daddy at Kohls, and run to Michaels to buy some yarn and crafty things.

This weekend I went to a Bridal Shower.  They served salmon.  I couldn't eat the salmon, so they offered to make me chicken.  I don't do chicken.  So it was two salads for me.  I felt SO rude.  Not to mention I had to leave early to make the youth group zip line trip.  I didn't even get cake :(  and to be honest with you, up until the point I turned the corner off my street, it never even occurred to me that I didn't have a gift.  Thank goodness for a CVS that offers cards AND gift cards for other retailers. 

My sister lent me a dress for the shower, and my mom took it up at the straps.  I looked like this :)

Looking at the bottom picture, I'm realizing how much my back is bending.  No wonder it hurts so badly!

I had my 7 month appointment on Friday.  I'll be 28 weeks tomorrow (happy third trimester!) and I was measuring at 32 weeks.  But I've only gained a pound from my pre pregnancy weight ( 10 lbs in all) so I wasn't too concerned.  Looking forward to the gestational diabetes test in the next two weeks...not.  I'm boning up on my fiber, and not missing any metformin, hoping my PCOS doesn't fail me now.  Stupid PCOS.  I mean, what's the worst that can happen?  Well.  If I couldn't eat watermelon...then maybe that's the worst.

In two more weeks I go for my last ultrasound.  I hope we can see his tiny baby face.  I hope he's healthy.  I hope God is smiling on me and my tiny family :)

Movin' on Up!

Well, whomever had the brilliant idea of putting July 4th square in the middle of the week, was a gigantic loser.  Don't get me wrong!  I love me some day off!  However.  I do not like NOT having the rest of the days off in the week.  Long weekends are the way to do it.

I might take this opportunity to mention, if I haven't before, that there is no maternity leave in my place of employment.  I get two weeks a year for vacation/sick time.  See that "slash" in there?  That's a HUGE slash, it turns out.  Two years ago I needed to take some emergency time off because Andy's grammy died.  When I informed my boss, she said, "Well, there's nothing you can really do, right?  Do you NEED to go for so many days?"  Yeah, I kind of do so...

We're working on saving as much as we can now, so I can have two weeks off.  I am confident God will provide, and my husband can manage the banking.  But it's still scary.  (Oh, speaking of Husband?  He gets 2 weeks paternity leave at 60% pay.  PATERNITY leave!  Life is just not fair sometimes).

Yesterday was July 4th.  Happy B-Day, America!  We went to see "1776" at Susquehanna Stage Co. last night with my father (the local celebrity).  Dad did the set design, which of course was amazing.  But there was NO A/C!!!!!!  I was sitting in a pool of my own sweat all night.  Thankfully, Tiny Son was moving and shaking all night, so I wasn't concerned.

Yesterday morning, I woke up to find my son had moved up in my belly, allowing me more room for my, you know, internal organs.  Instead of peeing 10-12 times a day, I think I peed only 8-10 times yesterday.  Thankfully this is making me seem a little more round and a little less like I, you know, ate too many chili dogs.

The big feat yesterday was this:

Lovely, right?  See the headboard?  Made that with my dad out of an old door- it's truly one of my prized possessions.  I faux finished the walls and had the whole room done by the time Andy came home from hiking...last year.

This is what it looks like after yesterday:

A little like a nuclear bomb went off, right?  Well, that's going to be the nursery!  My beautiful headboard will go to Keith and Kristi, who I'm sure will love it as much I have (and someday they will give it back) and the bed went to my parents house, where it will become a make shift bedroom for my inlaws (oh THAT'S a whole other blog entry...).  So as the room unfolds, I'll record it all here.  As you can imagine, there's a lot of work to be done, and I'm a little helpless at the moment.  But I'm sure it's going to be amazing.



Hello, Old Friend...

I heard that morning sickness comes back as you near the third trimester.  And today at 26 weeks, I woke up with a bout of it.

When I consider being 26 weeks pregnant, I start to panic.  This is a theme for me.  If I step back and just allow myself to be pregnant, it's not so bad.  When I try to analyze being pregnant...not so much.  When the baby kicks and I'm laying in bed watching my belly jump around, it's sweet and amazing and beautiful!  When I stop to think, I mean REALLY think, about what's going on in there...anxiety. 

And I'm afraid I'm going to miss something.  Like I'm going to just worry away this pregnancy, and then when it's over, I'm going to wish I was back there again.

I'm worried that our son isn't going to know or understand God the way I want him to.  I'm afraid he's not going to pray, or not going to comprehend prayer.  In reality, I'm sure he's going to teach me a thing or two about Him.  But in my heart I just pray over and over again that he would be a man of God, and teach US how to pray.  I've heard that in raising a boy, there are plenty of opportunities to pray... 

The latest and greatest is our shower is coming up!!!  Everyone loves a party!!!  Again with the anxiety, because I feel genuinely guilty if someone spends their hard earned cash on me.  Andy says to get over myself :)  I'm excited to see my family and friends in one place!  And we registered for so many cool things for him!!  Mom and April are going to do a great job planning, and Cathy and Tom are coming down for the occasion.  Also, Cathy is throwing another one for us in January, after he's born.  So there will be more opportunity to register for things we need or he wants or whatever.

So today, at 26 weeks, I look like this:

A big change from this.  Look how much my back is arched now!  Just to hold up my body.  No wonder it hurts all the time.  Oh and my hair is EXPONENTIALLY more fabulous now.  Thanks hormones!  (And Jodie, who does my hair!)

I'm proud of myself because I for once feel like I'm doing everything I can to make this healthy and happy.  The doctors are all proud of my weight gain (8.5 lbs) and I'm working out and being active and happy.  Oh, I can still fit in my skinny jeans!  I can't zip them, of course, but the thighs still fit.  I'm so ridiculous.

Tomorrow is July 4th.  July.  That means I'm half way through the summer.  As much as I want him here with us, I'd also like to slow down.  There's going to be a moment I'm going to miss having him all to myself.

Oh yes, and the next day it rained.

My grandpa used to say that phrase all the time.  Because at his wise old age, before he passed away, he knew that the next day would always come and the world would continue turning, no matter what happened the day before.  He should have copywritten it.

I'm yawning at my desk here.  Like normal.  No coworker.  Blah blah blah.  Old news!

Last night they had to take my dad to the hospital via ambulance.  He crawled into the house and was calling for my mom, and then he started spitting up blood.  So they called 911 and took him to Hershey Med.  They started him on an IV, and some medication because he said he was so dizzy.  He didn't know where he was.  I got there around 8, he had gotten there at around 7.  They did blood work, EKG and CT scan, which all came out normal, thankfully.  April, Taran, Andy's brother, Andy and I were all in the waiting room.  So we sat with him (only two allowed in the room at once) and took turns.  I asked for ice chips and fed those to him, and he finally fell asleep.  He did have to pee twice, so we knew his kidneys were functioning, etc.  It was just scary.  He had a nose bleed, so I think that's where they said the blood was coming from.

Andy, Danny and I left around midnight, and April and Taran stayed there until Dad was released around 3AM.    Andy had to awaken me last night because I was so restless I was hitting him in the face.  4:30 came around last this morning, and I remember dreaming but not so much sleeping.  Between the storm and getting up to use the bathroom, I was just a total wreck.  So I'm not sure I'm going to make the day today.

My inlaws are coming today still, and my BIL has not left.  He wants to eat supper as a family and THEN drive back tonight.  Whatever.  I'm seriously so tired and numb that I don't care.  The Mutterspaughs were supposed to come for supper tonight with the little ones, which of course I was looking forward to, and I had to cancel on them.  The house is just in shambles.  Andy started projects this week and just didn't finish them.  The dining room table has my scrap booking project (due next Sunday) all over it.  The dishwasher broke on Monday, so we have clean and dirty dishes everywhere (who can tell the difference?)  Because magically the dishes just get washed when you put them in the sink...right?

Sigh.  So that's my tale.  Thinking maybe I'll split here at noon.  Last night as I was sitting in the ER with my mom, it occured to me that I'm the mom now.  The doctor was all concerned about how I was doing, you know, in my "state".  I was really fine.  Andy, the ever amazing husband, who so graciously forgave me for my shortcomings on Wednesday night, was the most amazing support system ever.  God has blessed me far beyond what I deserve.

I'm going to go get a replacement pianist for my dad for Sunday, because our interim pastor just has no idea on how anything anywhere is done.

Oh, and here's a pic.  Because I can hold my cereal bowl on my belly. 

I didn't really mean that...

So I spouted off the other night, got really hormonal, got really tired, and ended up offending my Handsome Husband.  It was one of those times where the stupidity of your words hits you square in the face after they've left your mouth.  Like spitting into the wind...which I wouldn't suggest.  I was angry, and probably will be again, but in the meantime I was really sorry for how I came across.

What did I learn from this?  Don't practice hormonal texting.  It's like drunk texting.  You don't remember what you said until the next morning when it's too late.


My BIL has been here all week, and he will leave tomorrow night as he's high-fiving my MIL and FIL through the doorwar as they come in for a week.  Not even enough time to wash the sheets on the guest bed.

In all honesty, it hasn't been bad.  It IS, however, a glance into what it's going to be like to feed two grown men in the future.  And if he's anything like his daddy?  We might as well give up right now and buy a farm.  I think I need to find some meat alternatives.

My eye is on the prize, however, of that fateful day after they're all gone.  The day I get to rip down my guest room and make room for the nursery!!  Will it be next weekend?  Maybe it will be...  Will I begin taking pictures off the wall while they're sleeping?  Maybe I will...  Will they come in to a simple mattress on the floor?  Well.  Probably not.  Mostly because I can't lift very much.

I didn't really mean that.  Yes, yes I did.

Belly Dancing

There are some things about pregnancy that I could do without, and most of them are mental.  I'm constantly worried if I'm doing everything right.  Did I move the right way?  Did I exercise too much?  Did I exercise too little?  The one time where all I wanted was turkey subs...did that give him some neurological defect?  Do the techs and doctors detect something they're not telling us, because we opted out of testing?  How common are still births?  And on...and on...and on...

On my computer screen, I have posted some Bible verses.  Verses about how tomorrow will take care of itself.  About how God has made everything beautiful in His time.  About how here on earth we have trials and sorrows, but to take heart because He has overcome the world.  There are so many Biblical promises, and statistics and scientific research to back up that I'm okay...but until my brain and heart decides to accept it...I could do without all the mental pressure.

But then again...the baby and I have this crazy bond.  And it seems whenever I get into these funky moods, he knows just when to kick me.  One of the best things about being pregnant is watching my belly dance.  Just lying in bed and staring at it and watching it move and jiggle.  And then I laugh and then he jumps again, and it's like a game we play.  It happens the most when I eat ice cream or when I have pineapple or watermelon.  He loves those things!  We lay there and watch the show- the little dance recital he puts on for us in utero.  And we clap for him and rub my belly and tell him what a good boy he is.  It sounds dumb, but it's what we do.

If my husband was any more handsome, I'd have to lock him in a closet.  He is so attentive and wonderful.  He does what I need him to, and even things that are just sweet surprises.  He will put his head on my belly and just lay there and hold us- like a family.  He's excited to be a daddy, and it's coming naturally.  He will mention things like, "Now that I'm going to be a dad..." and he keeps a journal of his feelings to some day pass along to our son.  He's proud of me and of us.  I have been blessed beyond measure with a man like him.

Tomorrow is 25...we are about one week away from being in the double digits with this pregnancy.  My BIL is here this week.  My MIL and FIL will arrive for a week on Friday.  Just breathe through it, because once the baby is here, I'll never get this time with him back.

Yesterday was 24 weeks.  24 weeks.  16 more to go until 40.  The funny thing is that when you’re first pregnant, the time can’t go fast enough.  And I’m pretty sure it’s because you’re puking and you’re not eating, and you can’t imagine ANYTHING worse than not being able to eat.  So you wish away the time.  In fact, you start reading AHEAD in all your pregnancy books; you wish away the first three months for better days to come.

Except, better days don’t come.

Instead!  You can’t eat ENOUGH!  And the aches and pains you thought you had when your fetus was a mere peanut inside you?  Well.  You ain’t felt nothing yet, sister.  And the feelings of, “will this ever be over?” turn into, “DON’T COME YET!  I’M NOT READY!!!”  And the panic you first felt when you found out you were finally pregnant and would your body keep it in, morphs into panic on how much IS it going to hurt when it finally comes out?

Father’s Day was an exciting venture for us this year.  I had Belly Boudior pictures taken for the Handsome Husband- the only thing I could really think of that I could ONLY give him now.  A one time only offer.  I was really pleased how they came out, and I put together a coffee table book of them for him.  I also put together a few for my dad- emphasis on the "belly" and less on the "boudior" part.

I'll spare the racy ones for a private moment.